


The Weight of Air

by garrisonbabe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A Very DeanBenny Christmas, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hand Jobs, Human Benny, M/M, Resurrection, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 04:44:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garrisonbabe/pseuds/garrisonbabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benny wakes up in half a foot of snow, body warm and alive and Dean standing right beside him, ready to welcome him back into the world of the living.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Weight of Air

The air is cold, colder than he remembers as it cuts into his skin and lungs. God has breathing always been this painful? Or is the air just heavier here in Purgatory the second go around? Benny’s entire body spasms, eyes jerking open to a world dark but colorful. Snow falls from the sky in light clumps that are nothing like the bundles of ash Purgatory rains down. He knows from just this blurred glance that he isn’t where he was, with vampires tearing into him and draining him dry as Sam sprinted for the portal.

He closes his eyes again and turns to his side, groaning miserably at the pain wracking his body. Every muscle feels locked down and worn. A searing heat touches his cheek and he tries to lift his arm to bat it away, but with no effect. Ringing fills his ears worse than after a leviathan touching down but over it he hears something warm and hearty, a laugh. It takes a moment for syllables creep through into anything he can understand and when they do he opens his eyes again, wondering how he didn’t see the other man there. The man who glowed like pure wildfire in the gray desolation of the monster afterlife.

Bright green eyes look down at him, glassy with tears and full with a smile. His throat aches, sticks to itself with how dry it is. “Dean?”

He can’t even hear his own voice, but he can hear Dean’s clear as anything. “Yeah, Brother, it’s me. I got you.”

 

♦ ♦ ♦

More than five goddamned minutes. That’s how long it takes before Dean can help him haul his own fat ass into an upright sitting position. Everything is heavier now, the heat of Dean’s presence at his side, his clothing, the air he breathes, even his own hands and the heart in his chest. It’s almost like he can feel his own blood and he’s surprised when he notices that he can no longer smell Dean’s. As the pieces start to come together in his mind Dean is still guiding him, touching him and pulling him to stability.

His breath floats away from him in thin clouds, mixing with Dean’s then dissipating into the snow-filled wind. The puzzle finally becomes a whole picture and he looks at Dean in disbelief. “Dean, I’m… am I?”

“Human? Hell yeah.” Dean’s grin turns proud and wide, his eyes sparkling. “Which means we gotta get you outta the cold. I didn’t get you brought back just so you could die of fucking hypothermia. C’mon, Brother, let’s get you on your feet.”

He feels like a foal that’s been dropped on the ground before his time, stumbling and wobbling as he tries to find his balance. The world looks so fucking different now, feels different. He doesn’t have powers augmenting his perception and it’s jarring. Dean holds him up and keeps him close, offering support as he finds his legs. Standing upright doesn’t take nearly as long as sitting upright, which saves whatever tiny scrap of his pride he has left. The snow crunches under his shoes and he finds himself shivering quickly, new body heat melting the snow as it cakes to his clothing. Dean rubs his back and reassures him with soft words, but never pressures him to move faster.

“Don’t worry, Brother, Baby’s heating works miracles.” The car isn’t parked too far from them, just along the side of whichever podunk state route highway this is. Dean goes so far as to try and help him into the car, but he grumbles and fits himself in just fine, thank you. Smug bastard that he is, Dean just laughs and skips off to his side of the car.

It’s only now, as Dean gingerly slides into the driver’s seat, that Benny notices Dean’s not wearing any sort of real coat. A heavy henley shirt and a thick flannel, but nothing made for actual snow. He’s got more of a coat in his old jacket but Dean doesn’t look even a third as cold as he is. Just more of that same old warmth, he supposes.

 

♦ ♦ ♦

The drive back to the motel is silent for the most part, though it’s comfortable. Benny takes deep breaths, closing his eyes and focusing on the way his lungs burn when he pulls in too much air. It’s a vulnerability he hasn’t felt in longer than he can remember.

Dean says nothing as they navigate icy roads, just stares ahead and keeps them on the pavement. He has no idea even what state they’re in. It doesn’t look like Maine, not in the slightest. Whatever Dean’s done to get him out, he sure did it on his own terms. But really, Dean’s always done things on his own terms.

As caught up in his own thoughts as he is, he doesn’t even realize when they’ve reached the motel until the engine cuts off. Dean claps him on the shoulder and smiles, eyes lingering on him before getting out. Benny takes another breath and follows, grumbling softly because the car was actually pretty damn warm. All he gets from Dean is soft laughter, eyes crinkling as they look over a broad shoulder at him. Luckily the room is warm, too, or Benny might’ve said fuck it and gone and slept in the damn car. Let Dean drive him wherever.

Off in the corner is a small tree with lights and tiny ornaments. Sitting beside it are at least three bottles of whiskey and Benny huffs out an amused breath. Dean grins lopsidedly and shrugs. “Wanted to kick this off right.”

Benny nods and meets Dean’s eyes. “What exactly’re we kickin’ off?”

Dean stands a bit straighter and swallows hard, deep green of his eyes turning sharp. “I promised you I was gonna fix things. I keep my promises, Brother.”

They stand in silence for a moment before Benny smiles softly and nods. “Yeah, you do, don’cha?”

The sharpness fades from Dean’s eyes, his lips loosening into a smile as he steps forward and starts pulling at Benny’s wet clothing. “Need to get you outta this and into something dry before you catch cold. You’re human now.”

Benny puts his hands on Dean’s, halting the hunter’s motions. The air is tense between them, loaded. “How’d you do it, Dean?”

Dean licks his lips and takes a breath, hands still clutching Benny’s jacket. “I got some friends, a couple owed me some favors.”

“What kinda friends you got that can bust into Purgatory and bring a vampire back human?” Benny’s almost afraid of the answer.

“Reaper kind.” Dean’s hands slide up to cradle his jaw, his entire body swaying forward until their foreheads rest together. “Don’t worry about it, Brother. I handled it and you’re back now. You can  _belong_  here this time around.”

Benny’s throat is tight, jaws clenching when he hears the deep sincerity of Dean’s words. He feels guilty as hell for what he did, staying behind when he and Sam could have fought through the ambush of vamps. At the time he didn’t feel like he had another choice. Cowardly as it was, he knew he wouldn’t see Dean again, which meant not seeing the disappointment in his face when he learned Benny wasn’t coming back. He never expected this.

The first press of Dean’s lips on his is soft, unsure. His voice trembles on a whimper before he presses back desperately into the kiss, totally willing to accept whatever Dean wants to give him or take from him. He owes this man everything. Dean slides his jacket off and makes quick work of his suspenders and undershirt. He shivers when his skin meets the air, slightly chilled despite the warmth from the registers along the floor.

They pull apart so Dean can take his own shirts off, letting them fall to the floor without sparing a glance. The fever of Dean’s body puts the room’s heaters to shame and makes him feel like he’s gonna catch fire. There’s a glint in Dean’s eyes as he works both their belts by touch alone, smirking when their pants fall. Dean backs up and kneels to get them both out of their shoes. Benny feels like he’s running ten miles behind everything, his mind slow to catch onto things and his body even slower to respond. It’s gonna take a while to get used to this human business, but he knows Dean will stand with him the whole way.

 

♦ ♦ ♦

There are two beds in the room, but they only use one. Both of them are clad in boxers and socks and Benny’s only mildly curious about how Dean so easily guessed his size. The liquor is opened and poured but has yet to be drank and Christmas movies play on the local access channel in an unending block. Benny feels warm, happy, cared for. Dean sits at his side with an arm around his shoulders. It’s the closest he’s felt to anyone in two lifetimes.

It’s somewhere in the middle of Die Hard that Dean turns to him, a small smile on his lips that makes Benny’s heart skip, now that it can. He’s helpless to do anything but be pulled into the kiss that follows that private grin. Dean moans softly against his mouth and moves until he’s straddling Benny’s thighs, one arm hooked around the back of his neck. Benny wraps both of his arms around Dean’s torso, crushing their chests together and making it so their hips are perfectly aligned.

Dean shifts and pushes the line of his cock against Benny’s, moaning around the tongue he’s sucking on. While he didn’t anticipate this when they first sat down side by side, he can’t say he’s really all that surprised. This feels like it was always going to happen. Everything they left unsaid in that far off alleyway is being said here, expressed in the push of their tongues and lips and in the way Dean moves like he wants to ride Benny through the bed. That’s not such a bad idea, but it’s gonna have to wait. He knows he won’t be able to let Dean go long enough to get the prep done.

When he moves to Dean’s neck and bites he almost wants to sob with relief. There’s nothing. No hunger or second set of teeth itching in his gums. He opens his mouth wide and sucks hard, definitely leaving a hickey, but Dean doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. All Benny tastes is skin and sweat. Any doubt lingering in the back of his mind that this is anything but real is snapped away, leaving nothing but the knowledge that Dean really did yank him back out.

He throws Dean down against the mattress and quickly follows, looming over him like the predator he isn’t anymore. Green eyes and a pretty mouth are all he can see, all of it smiling up at him.

Dean cups the back of his head and reaches into his underwear with the other hand, gripping his dick and pulling it out. “There you are.”

His voice is soft, pouring into Benny’s head and making the pounding of his heart that much more obvious now. The hickey on Dean’s neck is already dark as hell and Benny smirks before diving down to give it a kiss. Dean hums and starts jacking him off, legs floating up until they’re wrapped around Benny’s waist. Benny goes down to his elbows and shoves his hand between them, only to have Dean let go of him and bat it away. He lifts his head to question it, but Dean kisses him and drags light fingers all across his thick shaft.

Every vein is traced, rough calluses dragging along and making Benny groan. They part just enough to breathe, Dean’s other hand flexing against his scalp, rubbing until Benny relaxes above him. “Don’t worry, Brother, we’ll do me after.”

Benny nods and rests his head against Dean’s shoulder, both of his thick forearms bracketing the hunter’s head. Dean grips him firmly again and starts off slower, tugging his cock and massaging the head on every pass. Heat unfurls in his gut, balls hanging heavily and hips giving stilted pushes into the circle of Dean’s fist. The whole while Dean’s other hand rubs the back of his head and all across his upper back, touch heavy and urging his muscles to loosen from battle ready tense and acknowledge the safety around them.

His whole body feels like it’s melting, pleasure soaking his limbs and mind as Dean works him over so damn easily. Normally he’d be suspicious of anyone having this kind of power over him, but this is Dean. He allows himself to let go, mind not filled with anger and the need for revenge or the worry of what happens now. All he lets himself feel and think about is the way Dean smells, his senses so dull that all he smells is Dean’s sweat and soap. Dean’s skin tastes like skin, no undercurrent of blood making him high.

Little whispers fly into his ears, making every twist of Dean’s hand on his cock feel that much better. “Gonna get you set up right this time, Brother, keep my damn eye on you.”

Benny chuckles and groans, turning his head and panting against Dean’s mouth. His dick throbs hard on every pass, muscles of his legs shaking. Dean’s nails bite into the skin at the back of his neck and his hips snap forward, he’s so close to spilling.

“There we go, Brother, c’mon, Ben, come for me.” Dean kisses him, still lightly scratching him.

His new pulse throbs in his cock and all it takes is Dean thumbing under the head for the sparks to catch in his veins, mouth open wide as he moans unrestrained for Dean to swallow. The fine trembling in his legs spreads through his whole body, arms shaky like they’re gonna give out while Dean milks him. Weak, needy sounds fill his throat as he dives into another kiss.

Dean accepts it all, legs tight around his waist and hands steady. While he’s grateful to be human, he isn’t much fond of needing to break his kisses with Dean just to breathe. When he looks down he sees Dean smiling at him fondly, eyes bright and happy. Happier than he thinks he’s ever seen and the fact that he knows he’s put that look there fills a good bit of the ache that’s always kept his chest hollow.

It’s Christmas, Benny is human again and he’s so damn  _warm_ , surrounded by tidal wave that is Dean’s fierce love. He takes a deep breath, lungs burning and eyes filling with overdue tears. “Thank you, Brother.”

Dean cups the side of his face and nods. “Promised myself I’d get you out. I keep my promises.”

Benny chuckles and blinks his tears back. “You and that friend thing.”

The smile on Dean’s face falters a bit, eyes flicking down to Benny’s mouth, then back up to his eyes. “Actually it’s, uh, me and that family thing.”

Another slow moment passes between them, the air heavy and hot. It’s Christmas and two warriors have come home.

**Author's Note:**

> written for [A Very DeanBenny Christmas](http://averydeanbennychristmas.tumblr.com/) over on tumblr


End file.
